Ensemble
by Ceekaygee
Summary: Haymitch wakes up to find that Effie has decorated his hospital room. Pre-Hunger Games.


It was the tree that worried Haymitch–not the blinding headache or the restraints on his wrists. He had woken up with latter enough times to know that he was withdrawing in the hospital. But there had never been a tree before.  
He had hallucinated a lot of crazy shit but never a little tree covered in red, shining lights. He wondered what it meant.

He wondered how long he'd been here that the hallucinations were this bad already. The room was too dark for him to make out the clock clearly. It looked like it said six something but this time of year six am and six pm looked remarkably similar. He twisted to look at the IV pole–the fluid hanging was clear so it must have been night if the yellow bag full of vitamins was done infusing. The bright lights on the IV pump told him that the Ativan drip running through the other set of tubing was only at 10. So he'd either been here a long time, so long that they'd titrated the Ativan down or he'd just arrived and withdrawal was just starting. In either case, he was ready to go home.

He shifted his hips slightly and winced when the Foley catheter shifted in his dick. He'd never get used to those fucking things. Maybe he could pull it out if he could just….

And that's when he saw something even stranger than the twinkling tree. There were pine boughs, sparking gold tinsel and little berries hung on the walls. Two red stockings hung from an IV pole which had been wrapped in pine needles. Under the clock there were cards, depicting winter scenes, arranged in the shape of a tree.

Panic flooded him and he heard the heart monitor speed up. He twisted back around to look at the IV pole with the drips. It was old, the kind used in 12, not the Capitol. His panic subsided slightly. He needed to call a nurse. He needed to hear that he wasn't in the fucking Capitol.

He couldn't reach the call button on the side of the bed and was about to start screaming when the door clicked open.

A woman stepped through, humming a song he half knew and he recognized her instantly. A dark green wig and puffed sleeves the size of piglets could only belong to Effie Trinket.

They hadn't won that year. That was all Haymitch could think. They hadn't won that year so there was no reason for her to be here in the dead of winter. There was no other reason for her to be here.

"You're awake," she cried. "I'd begun to wonder if you'd ever wake up. I was at sixes and sevens, you have no idea." She hurried over and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "How do you feel," she asked, her voice gentle.

He aught to have pulled away. He didn't need comforting from a Capitol bitch. But her hand was cool and soft against his skin. And it had been so long since anyone had touched him so kindly. He leaned into touch and told her the truth, "Bad."

She tsked, "That's what happens when one is found passed out for who knows how many days in an unheated home in winter that is overrun by vermin." Her voice was shrill and he heard something like fear in it. "The doctors were worried that you'd damaged your kidneys," she added, as if to rebuke him.

"Did I?" He didn't really care if he had.

"No, but it would have been awfully moving if you had and I had been the one to donate a kidney. I've never quite had the shoulders for backless gowns but…," she continued on about the glamor of organ donation for some time, her fingers raking through his hair.

He let himself be comforted by her touch. Her prattling was like white noise and soon his eyelids began to drift closed.

"I thought you were going to die," she said after a pause. "They said to leave you but I couldn't imagine my victor dying all alone. They said it would be easier. I'd be promoted to another district. But there's really no point in another district. I'd have to train another victor. And if I stayed, could you imagine what the Careers would do to the children? Could you imagine Enobaria with some little girl from the Seam? It just wouldn't do."

He opened an eye to look at her. Her lips were pressed in a thin line and her makeup was worn off on her brow as if she'd swiped her hand across it too many times. Her voice was brittle and her shoulders were tense. "You came all this way because you were worried about me, sweetheart," his voice was heavy with Ativan and sleep.

"I came all this way because you called," she corrected.

He snorted, "I called you? You must have been dreaming, Princess."

She sat up straight and fixed her wig. He regretted the loss of her touch immediately. "When you arrived here, the medical staff was able to rouse you briefly and they said that you asked for me.

This revelation didn't shock Haymitch. Sometimes he'd go looking for Effie, only to remember that he was at home in 12 and there was no one to pick a fight with or tuck him between clean sheets when he was tired. He'd woken up more than once next to his bed, angry with her for not having put him properly to sleep. Of course the hospital staff knew her. Of course they had done the right thing and called her.

But she had come.

Suddenly he felt more awake than he had in years. His heart felt painful in his chest and he wondered briefly if this was what a heart attack felt like. She had come. She had come for him. They, whoever they were, had told her to stay but she had come for him.

"Of course Mother said that it was foolishness to leave the Capitol during the holidays. I had so many lovely ensembles planned and no one will see them now," she sounded sad. "I tried to make things festive but I've had the hardest time finding decorations. One of the little nurses helped but it's a sad showing I'm afraid."

He grunted, "'S nice." He wasn't exactly sure why things were decorated but hated the condescension Capitols used when explaining their customs. And it wasn't terrible. It was almost cozy with the light from the tree.

He reached his fingers up towards her and she grasped them with a smile.  
"Glad you came," he said finally.

She grinned and began to tell him about her plans for cleaning his house. He objected to most of them because that infuriated her but he knew that he was powerless against her.

He may not have been able to appreciate her ensembles but he appreciated the fuck out of her.


End file.
